The Sharpest Lives
by Pafin
Summary: Song fic. Nothing but the story idea and the execution of ideas belong to me. Mathias loves the poision. The thrill. The everything of him.


Mathias' eyes flickered from one face to another. Drowsy, hungover, tired, shattered, half sleeping and confursed, he didn't bother to try speaking as the tall man above him opened his mouth.

If I crash on the couch can I sleep in my clothes?...

The music from the night before still rang in his ears – or was it his voice? Who's voice was it, anyway? He blinking, sleep caught in his eyelashes as he stared up at the man. His lips were moving. He didn't look angry, but he didn't look calm. Collected, but stern. He seemed as if Mathias was the person he was angry with.

'Cause I've spent the night dancing I'm drunk, I suppose...

He blinked again, hard, and then was suddenly aware of his words. Who it was. What he was saying. What he was saying. What he was saying. Everything seemed to ring in his ears and the echo seemed almost eternal, but he couldn't stop it. Everything repeated itself and he didn't like what he was hearing. To listen to it over and over and over was almost painful.

If it looks like I'm laughing I'm really just asking to leave...

He swallowed thickly, before repeating his words in his head. He repeated them over and over until his mind finally processed and he opened his mouth. He almost laugh, but then the man seemed more angry. More calm. More determined. More collected. More him. Mathias' words finally croaked out.

This alone, you're in time for the show...

"I can take care of myself..." he whispered, even though it was a lie. He could tell it was a lie because of the look on his face. His face had hardened and he looked angry. It's the face he always made when Mathias was lying. He knew him well like that. So why couldn't he take care of himself? He didn't like lying. That didn't mean he didn't though. He didn't really like it here. He was half dressed and he didn't like that, either, where had his clothes gone? What was he meant to do now? Say something else? His face contorted and he began speaking again.

You're the one that I need, I'm the one that you loathe...

Why didn't he like it here? If he disliked it so much, why did he in his intoxicated state stumble to this house? This room? This couch and this man's? Why didn't he go home? Curling up his fists and turning his heavy lidded, bloodshot eyes, encrypted with sleep and hung with dark circles to meet his at last, and through the pain and the headache, he bit his lip and whispered.

You can watch me corrode like a beast in repose...

"You know I'd do anything for you." Mathias said eventually. His face seemed to soften. Just a little. He could tell by his voice that he never really spoke this much. Not really, anyway. It was unlike him to have this reaction to this sort of thing anyway. He bent down, so Mathias' eyes didn't hurt anymore and he could gaze at him in peace. Those narrow eyes stared into his and seemed to weaken.

'Cause I love all the poison away with the boys in the band...

"Why, Danmark?" the man whispered croakily. His voice was always croaky. He was that kind of person. He was surprised he hadn't noticed it sooner. It must hurt with a croaky voice like gravel. Mathias didn't like the sound of it, but at the same time, he couldn't get enough. He opened his mouth again and tried to speak, but the man interrupted.

I've really been on a bender and it shows...

"You need to stop this." The man said, back stern. That was it. The balances had been thrown off and he was back to his usual self. Mathias knew that, but he couldn't stop his hand snaking behind him head, lacing into his hair. He didn't hear him declining the affection.

So why don't you blow me a kiss before she goes?

"You stop it." Mathias whispered, gazing into those eyes. He knew he shouldn't be. It wasn't allowed. They were both in love. Mathias had a lover and he had a lover. They just weren't each other. He wanted it for the thrill and the poisonous affection and back breaking but mind blowing sex. He wanted him, and everything he had to offer.

Give me a shot to remember...

Those eyes. He could feel his practically boring into his soul and trying to reach him. Stabbing at his feelings, trying to tear their love apart, and he hated it. Those bright blue eyes made him remember everything from the poisonous, mind blowing, back breaking night before.

And you can take all the pain away from me...

Mathias could remember as he stumbled into his house. Falling into t he door, only to find it was already open. Shuffling inside, slamming it behind him before collapsing onto the couch. His heavy, slow footsteps and his beautiful face, he could remember that too. His hand slipping behind his neck and pulling him on top, before melting their lips together.

A kiss and I will surrender

Those lips were still melted against his. Mathias could feel him, everything from his tongue swirling around his mouth and his hand encasing his scalp. His heart thumped and he could feel that heavy, swirling thrill in his chest and he absolutely _loved _it and he never wanted it to stop...

The sharpest lives are the deadliest to lead.

Suddenly, the lips were stopped. His weight was no longer on top of him and he didn't have the thrill. Instead, there was a sad, sinking feeling. His bright eyes blinked up and met his.

"I can't..." Berwald murmured. "Mathias- I can't ... Y'know I can't..."

Mathias would have noted the croakiness in his voice, but it wasn't new. He was used to it. And Berwald was used to him.

"You can't do anything if you act like that." Mathias whispered, grabbing him from underneath his arms. "You know I love you..."

"You're hungover. I'm calling... I'm calling someone."

Mathias knew why he didn't specify who. Because he didn't have anyone else. Except for Berwald, he was all alone and the man he loved was in love. Just not with him.

"Who?" he whispered, his fingers brushing against his ear. "You know you love me. Everyone I know loves me. You love me most though, don't you?" Mathais was bullshitting Berwald and he was bullshitting himself. That didn't stop him though.

Yet it certainly stopped Berwald. He stared at him, before smacking his hand away.

"I'm a married man."

"I'm alone."

"I don't care."

"I need you."

"I loathe you."

"But you love me."

Silence.

All Berwald did, was stare at him, before standing up and walking away.

_So bright the sun is ashamed to rise and be, in love with all of these vampires, So you can leave like the sane abandoned me. _

All Mathias could do was smile.

Because he knew he was right.

Because Berwald's face had softened.


End file.
